My Best Life Now? Seriously?
Does that best life include:
My sleep apnea
Diabetes, Fibromyalgia, and allergies so bad she can’t breathe through her nose for months on end?
My son’s chronic back problems?
Loved ones dying of cancer?
What part of this is “best,” Joel?
“But, bless God, brother,” you say. “You just need to take a hold of it.” Well, d’oh! What do you think I’ve been doing? Playing tiddlywinks? I pray–I believe–everyday.
You say “Well maybe you just don’t have faith? Pray for faith, brother.” Doing this, too, bro.
By my reckoning, I’d say that I have much the same faith as:
Abraham–who died without receiving his inheritance
Gideon–who twice laid out his fleece before God
Barak–who wouldn’t go fight unless Deborah accompanied him
David–who killed Uriah to cover up his sin
Job–who suffered it seems so God could win a bet with the devil
The Apostle Paul–who was shipwrecked, stoned (with actual rocks, not pot), and cast adrift in the open ocean
It seems to me, Joel, that their hope was not in having the best life now, but in having a blessed life now.
Which meant walking with God, and trusting him, through hard things. Not being delivered from those hard things, but rather being delivered through them.
Because it seems to me that having the best life now means having a hope in the hereafter, where “He [God] will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Revelation 21:4, ESV).
Bite me, Joel Osteen: the best is yet to be.